Breathing Room
by accidental laughter
Summary: "She's never told anyone, but she likes to run away." After sealing her breakup with Freddie with a kiss, Sam decides to run away.  Unfortunately for her, Freddie's there, inhabiting her thoughts and making her think of crazy things- like love..


**A/N: This takes place right after the breakup.**

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><p>"Well.." He exhales, looking around the empty theater awkwardly. They've just watched, '<strong>Alien Guts II', <strong>(as if the first one wasn't gruesome enough) and Sam's still staring at the credits rolling on the screen.

He waits for her to pick up her popcorn- what's left of it, anyway- but she's focusing on the flashing names. Freddie's pretty sure she hasn't blinked once since she froze when the movie ended.

"I think that's the best one yet. Don't you, Sam?" He asks, attempting to pull her out of her reverie. He doesn't actually know if it was any good or not- he spent the majority of the movie swapping spit with her. After the talk they'd had beforehand, they agreed this would be the last movie they'd see together as a couple. It just wasn't working out; the couple part, not the kissing. Knowing that it would be the last time she'd kiss him- possible ever again- she did it with such fervor that Freddie was afraid his lips would turn blue, and he'd have to explain to his mom that the breakup went a little better than he expected. While the aliens were being slaughtered by the ignorant, kill-happy humans, Sam was busy making sure he'd never be able to kiss again without seeing her face in the back of his mind.

It worked. Even now, as he watches her eyes tracing the words on the screen, he can feel her lips on his, pushing him up against his seat. He wipes his lips- just to make sure he really _is_ imagining it.

"Sam?" He starts to worry, now. The credits are over. She's staring at a blank screen. People are beginning to arrive for the five o'clock show. Her hand is gripping the arm of the chair just a little too tightly.

Just like that, her blue eyes are on his and she's smirking the slightest bit, enough to make him want to rethink the whole breakup ordeal. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out some chapstick, then rubs it over her lips, as if he wasn't already considering kissing them. He sits there in silence, waiting for what seems like hours for her to put the chapstick away and talk to him.

When she does, it's not as impressive as he had hoped.

"Let's go."

He watches her attempt to stand up. Her legs must be asleep and he almost reaches out to massage them but realizes they're not girlfriend and boyfriend anymore and the gesture would say otherwise. When she does stand, she reaches for her popcorn and drink then turns to him with an impatient stare.

"Well? Get up. Don't ya' know the movie's over with already?"

_Yeah, I have for the past ten minutes, _he thinks, but he gets up anyway and grabs his popcorn. Before they get out the door he says, "Do you have a ride?"

She closes her eyes for a long time and he fears she might freeze up again. When she opens them they look broken.

"No," she says, rolling her eyes, "have I ever?"

That's when it hits him; he's asked her that after every movie they've made out to. The only difference is that this is the last movie they'll ever make out to, and Sam isn't smiling.

"Oh yeah," he shakes his head, "I keep forgetting. Well, let me drive you."

She shakes her head. "Nah, it's okay, I know the streets. I'll walk."

He feels a sense of dread wash over him. She's never said that before. Usually she laughs and says something along the lines of, "You better, nubhead."

"Sam, really; it's nothing."

_It's everything_, she wants to say, but doesn't. Instead, she frowns and glares at him with malice.

"I'm walking, Freddie. That's that. Now go tell that makeup covered blondie over there to refill my popcorn. Mama likes to eat when she walks."

He sighs and realizes sadly that the malicious Sam is back, and the one he likes, the: you're-my-boyfriend-I-have-to-be-somewhat-decent-to-you Sam is gone, along with his other personal favorite: I-don't-care-just-kiss-me Sam.

He refills her popcorn, smiling awkwardly at the makeup covered blonde that keeps batting her eyelashes at him, then turns to persuade Sam to let him drive her home. He lets out a silent gasp and glances around the room with wide eyes.

She's gone.

**/https:/**

She wouldn't tell anyone, but she likes to walk the streets of Seattle alone. During the summer, when it's not raining, the streets come alive. There are people everywhere. Some sing, some dance, others have little booths set up full of delicious delicacies- including her favorite- The Monster Meatball. As she walks, she skips to a silent beat and waves hello to the hobos as she passes them. It's not like New York- the only people that get mugged around Seattle are the ones stupid enough to wave their wallets around when they walk. Besides, _no-one's _stupid enough to mug Sam Puckett.

She inhales the scent of strawberry mango as she passes the Groovy Smoothie. It reminds her of the second date she and Freddie had, and how he had brought her a deluxe strawberry mango smoothie and a basket of meatballs to have a picnic with, right there on his fire escape. His mom was in the living room, cleaning, so it made the moment even more special. He was risking everything just to hold her close and watch the stars.

She starts to hum the tune his stereo was playing that night, but stops when she realizes she's smiling.

_Don't even think about that nub,_ she thinks, glaring at a girl waiting at a bus stop. _He didn't mean anything to you anyway._ The girl shoots her a strange look, sort of half confused and half dazed. Sam figures that's what Freddie must've looked like when he noticed she left the theater. She imagines his cute little baby face lined with wrinkles and his muddy brown eyes narrowed, as he searched around the theater for his girlfriend who literally froze like an idiot when the movie ended. Oh yeah, _ex girlfriend._

When she arrives at her small yellow house, she immediately runs to her bedroom and jumps on the bed, smashing her face against a pillow. After lying there for a little while, she sits up straight and eyes the stuffed cow she'd pushed aside when she came in.

It wasn't a very big cow- about the size of an average hand- with brown and white spots and a cute pink nose. A boy named Jason had given it to her when she was in first grade- her first ever boyfriend. Her fondest childhood memories came from that cow, mostly because she carried it around wherever she went until she was eight, when stuffed animals suddenly only suited then on she kept it on her bed, waking up occasionally with her arms wrapped around it like the old days.

Looking at the cow wasn't the best idea- it reminded her of the stuffed animal Freddie had given her for their monthaversary, and that reminded her of kissing him at the theater, and that reminded her of kissing him in the iCarly studio, and that reminded her of her first kiss with him at the fire escape, and that reminded her of the fact that she'd never kiss him again.

And that reminded her that her life sucked.

The stuffed animal Freddie had given her was a skunk with a long bushy tail. She remembered how he had laughed at the weird look she'd given him upon receiving a skunk for a gift. It was a nervous laugh, almost as if he feared she'd break up with him over something so impractical. He said, "Y'know, so when you call someone a skunk bag you can throw this at 'em!"

She did throw it at _something_: the trashcan. It was one of her dating rules: never, _ever, _keep anything a boyfriend gives you. If a breakup were to happen, small memories tied around that item would just make the moving on process harder. She'd only kept Jason's because the memories tied to it were the best- ones that didn't involve kissing or love; just her being a kid.

Unfortunately enough for her, everything seemed to bring back a memory of Freddie.

The necklace she was wearing reminded her of the time they were camping behind her house and he spotted it and said, "That's why your eyes looked so sparkly tonight." She'd worn it every day since.

Even walking into her room made painful memories resurface; after all, _he'd _done the same thing many times during the past few weeks.

Another hour passes by and she's staring out the window, watching a few boys skate down the road. It's then that she knows what she needs to do.

She starts to dig around under her bed, throwing the old pizza box and empty soda cans out as she reaches for a brown leather suitcase. Upon finding it, she slings it around her shoulder and grabs a few peppy colas from the refrigerator, along with three cans of spaghetti and a bag of fat cakes.

She waves at one of the skateboarders, who sends her a cheeky smile back. She's too downhearted to yell, "In your dreams, you sick freak," so she settles for a crude hand gesture, then makes her way towards a field behind her neighbors yard. The guy isn't home. He's always off on some sort of, "important business," as he likes to call it. She thinks he's a drug dealer. His yard's got a huge hill that she likes to call The Meatball, so she pays no mind to his job preference as long as he pays no mind to her tromping around on his property.

The Meatball has a perfect view of Lake Marinara, (she names geographical locations after the food she's eating at the time of observing them, mainly because she doesn't want to look up their real names) the lake she enjoys gazing at when the moon's out and about. Everything seems to be reflected on the water- even her eyes. She likes to stare at them while they're staring back at her, and ask them questions as if they belong to someone else.

She arrives at The Meatball just in time to watch the sun slowly fade over the horizon. It makes her think of when she was a little girl, catching lightning bugs while the sunset set fire to her hair. Evening was always her favorite time of day. It's a time when everyone's relaxing and forgetting their worries for a few hours of bliss. Perhaps that's what she's doing now.

She's never told anyone, but she likes to run away.

She's done it three times. Once when her dad left, once when Melanie headed off to her prep school, and the last time she fought with Carly and almost ended the friendship. People tell others not to run away from their problems; that it only makes things worse. She doesn't think that. Each time she's run off it only made things better. She has an entire night- or two, just to think about her problems, and get everything planned in her head before she heads back to actually solve it. She had tried to do that at the theaters; clear her mind so saying goodbye wouldn't be hard, but that darned nub wouldn't let her. He kept going on and on about giving her a ride. That simple motion brought back unnecessary memories of their many trips to the theaters, the times he's kissed her at her doorstep, and the most painful- the rides home when they'd cruise for a while; his hand on her knee and smooth voice in her ear, describing what he liked best about her.

_"I like the way your eyes light up when I say your name."_

_It was your fault, kissing him like that at the theater_, she thinks, throwing her bag down and opening a fat cake. _It only made you think about him more. Heck he's probably not even thinking about you now. He's probably already making kissy faces at Carly. _

She lights a candle she packed in her suitcase a few years back, and lies flat on her stomach to watch the moon glow against the lake. Her eyes appear next to it; staring back at her with tons of questions. She takes a deep breath, preparing to answer every one.

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><p><strong>I was going to make this a one-shot, but I've changed my mind. Hope you've all had a wonderful Christmas break, and that you haven't forgotten about me.<strong>

**Thanks for all the wonderful story alerts on iDig; I'm so happy to have updated it. I've got a few.. surprises in store for that 'en! **

**Thanks again, and happy reading!**

**-Accidental Laughter**


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